“You’re lucky you’re fluffy. I should’ve brought another layer.” Sara says as she tightens Prada’s girth, pausing to blow into her un-gloved hands. The brown stallion looks at her and nickers, as if to say That sounds like a you problem. Sara laughs, and gives his lucious thick coat a final sweep with her hand. “Ready to head out boy?” He nods and prances, impati...
